


Make My Dreams Come True

by clgfanfic



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kid knows how to make Heyes' dreams come true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make My Dreams Come True

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Devil's Hole #4 and later in One in Ten #4 under the pen name Zane.

Heyes sat bolt upright in bed, his heart pounding.  Next to him, the Kid rolled onto his back and looked at him, blinking owlishly.

"You all right?" Curry asked sleepily.

"Yeah," Heyes replied, running a trembling hand over his disheveled dark-brown hair.

The Kid frowned and propped himself up on his elbows.  "Still havin' that same nightmare?"

The ex-outlaw leader nodded, then flopped back down on the lumpy mattress.  The old hotel bed squeaked.  "I sure wish I knew what it meant," he grumbled.

Kid Curry knew his partner was talking about a recurring nightmare he'd been having about the two of them drowning.  About how they had somehow ended up on a tiny island in the middle of an ocean, but it crumbled away and left them to drown.  Heyes was sure it was some kind of a sign, a portent, he'd called it, and it was making the man downright irritable.  All the Kid knew was that the dream had led the two of them to a new pleasure he quickly found he couldn't get enough of – sex with Heyes.

Curry glanced over at the single window in the room.  It was still pitch dark outside; he had plenty of time.  And his poker was already stiff and throbbing where it lay pressed along his lower belly.  "Heyes," he whispered.

"Yeah, Kid?"

Without asking, Curry reached out under the sheet and wrapped his fingers around the dark-haired man's flaccid pole.  He squeezed, then pulled.  Heyes moaned softly.

The Kid's hand continued moving, his fingers curling over the crown.  He squeezed again, feeling the veins that twined around the shaft swell.

Heyes closed his eyes and sighed softly.  "Kid, you can't seem to get enough of this," he half-growled

"Nope," the blond replied, squeezing harder, "I can't.  And neither can you."

Curry knew that if he could see Heyes' pole it would've just darkened from rosy pink to crimson.  Rolling over onto his side, he licked the palm of his free hand, then slid it beneath the head and gripped the remaining exposed portion of Heyes' shaft, holding on tight.  Heyes moaned again, and the Kid knew that meant he could do whatever he wanted, and what he wanted was in his hands.

The blond shifted quickly, glad that the warm weather meant that he could pull down the thin sheet that covered the object of his desire without worry.  Heyes' cock had quickly turned hard in his hands, and when he gently pulled the man's foreskin back, Heyes pressed his hips up off the bed, inviting Curry to enjoy himself.  And he did.

Dipping his head, the Kid kissed the seeping crown, then gripped the base with one hand and sucked his partner's pole into his mouth, rubbing his tongue along the sensitive underside.  Heyes responded, his hips bucking up in time to the Kid's tongue work.

With his free hand, Curry fondled Heyes' balls until he felt them draw up into a tight, hard knot at the base of his poker.

Heyes took a deep breath, sucking in his belly.  "Slow down, Kid, you're goin' too fast."

Curry rocked back, grinning, then touched the tip of his finger to the tiny hole, then Heyes' nipples, making them slick with spit and Heyes' own seed.  He rubbed his hands across his lover's chest, down his belly and back to his groin.  Slipping his fingers between Heyes' legs, he stroked the man's balls again.  They snugged tighter against the base of his poker and seed drooled out of the rigid pole, hot as it ran over the Kid's fingers.  Heyes was close, very close.

With his free hand, Curry reached up and tweaked one of Heyes' nipples.

"Do it, Kid," Heyes panted.  "I can't wait…"

Curry pulled back the man's foreskin again, then took Heyes in his mouth, sliding his mouth down, inch by inch until his nose pressed into the tangle of dark hair at the base.  He paused there, enjoying the size and texture of his lover’s pole, how it filled his mouth, how the head pushed hard against the back of his throat.

Heyes pumped his hips slowly, twining his fingers through the Kid's blond curls, gently tugging the man's head back and forth.

Curry responded by wrapping a hand around Heyes' balls and giving them a good tug as his mouth swooped up the thick shaft, then back down again.  He quickened the pace, bobbing his head faster and faster, his lips sliding down the velvety skin of Heyes' prod.

The dark-haired man cried out softly, his poker pulsing in Curry's mouth as he pumped out a thick load.  The Kid closed his eyes with pleasure and sucked mightily.

Heyes' hips bucked several times as he emptied himself into Curry's eager mouth.  When the last drop seeped out, the Kid licked it off as his partner gently ran his fingers through the blond curls.

"That was good, Kid, really good."

"Mmm," Curry said, flopping down on his back, his legs spread open, his own poker standing straight up.

"Mmm is right," Heyes purred as he moved to kneel between the Kid's legs.

He kissed the hard, smooth surface of Curry's abdomen, licking and nibbling at the soft curves created by the taut muscles that lay beneath the skin.  As his mouth moved lower, traveling toward the waiting cock, the Kid squirmed, bucking his hips up to encourage the man to move faster.

Heyes didn't let the movement distract him, or speed him up, but his mouth did keep moving toward the Kid's cock.  He took the erect prod in his hand, gently stroking it, admiring its size.  Then he brought his tongue to it.  Curry sighed as Heyes licked the exposed crown like a kid's lollipop.

Heyes opened his mouth and guided the Kid's poker between his lips, the turgid flesh filling his mouth.  He could taste Curry's precome, and paused to savor the salty flavor.  He swallowed as much as he could, then started to suck.

Curry moaned and sighed.  He put a hand on top of Heyes' head, pushing himself in a little deeper.  "Your mouth feels so good," he murmured, sounding like he'd been dosed with laudanum.

Heyes' fingers wrapped around Curry's poker, his fist moving up and down the shaft as he licked and sucked on the head.  The Kid's body began shaking, every muscle contracting as the pleasure intensified.  Heyes increased the man's twitching when he cupped the Kid's balls, holding and squeezing the two swollen orbs for a few moments before his hand moved down farther, his fingers slipping into the sweaty crevice of Curry's ass.  He dragged an index finger over the puckered hole, causing the Kid to tremble in barely controlled ecstasy.  He had quickly discovered that the blond liked the small opening touched and invaded.  And he'd been more than happy to go along with it, but he'd never been able to ask for the same.

When Heyes employed his teeth, lightly nibbling at the very tip of the Kid's poker while his finger slipped inside his lover's ass, it was all the blond could stand.  He thrust his hips up, burying his cock in the back of Heyes' mouth and fired off several shots of his hot seed, which Heyes happily swallowed.

As soon as Heyes licked his partner clean, the two men repositioned themselves on the bed, Curry managing to pull the sheet up over them again.  "That oughta keep the nightmares away the rest of the night," he mumbled happily.

"Hope so," Heyes agreed.

"One of these days, I wanna… you know, like you do to me sometimes."

Heyes trembled slightly.  He'd thought about what it might be like, the Kid pressing himself deep inside his ass, but it just scared him.  "Maybe."

"No maybes," Curry slurred thickly.  "Soon.  You'll like it."

"Maybe," Heyes replied just before they both drifted back to sleep.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The following day, on their way to San Francisco, Heyes finally learned what the dream had been trying to tell him.

First there was the three-man posse that drove them off their regular trail and into the narrow canyons that crisscrossed the Sierra foothills.  Then there was the flash flood that came out of nowhere.

He and the Kid had spurred their horses, driving them up the side of a steep hill, trying to escape the oncoming rush of water.  And they almost made it, too, but the Kid's horse stumbled, the sound of its leg breaking clear above the rumble of the approaching water.  Horse and rider tumbled back down the hillside, landing in the churning brown water as it careened around the canyon bend, sweeping them away.

"Kid!" Heyes cried, but there was nothing he could do but urge his mount further up the slope as Curry and his horse disappeared from sight.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

As he cleared the top of the ridge, the posse opened fire, forcing Heyes to flee, taking him further and further away from the Kid.

He managed to lose the three-man posse a few hours later, and as soon as he did, he headed back to the canyon to search for his partner.  What he found was the sorrel gelding, its body caught in a tangle of debris.  But there was no sign of the Kid.

Reason told him that the Kid would have been swept further down the canyon, his body lighter than the horse's.  But even as he rode along the now-trickling stream, which was all that was left behind after the flood, he refused to believe that he would find Curry dead.

In the end, he hadn't found him at all.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Riding into the small town of Senora, Heyes ignored the various stares his disheveled appearance elicited from the men and women passing by him on the street. He didn't care what these people thought.  He didn't care if this was the town where the posse had come from, or gone to.  He didn't care if he knew the sheriff, or if the sheriff knew him.  He didn't care about anything at all.

The Kid was dead.

And he hadn't even been able to find a body to bury.

Pulling his gelding up in front of the saloon, Heyes dismounted, letting the reins drop into the muddy street.  He walked inside and headed straight for the bar, ordering a whiskey without bothering to look up at the bartender.

A full glass was pushed in front of him and Heyes grabbed it, emptying the contents in one swallow.

"Give me another one," Heyes said softly.

"Gotta see your money first, Mister," the bartender replied.

Still staring at the empty glass, Heyes fished into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar gold piece, slapping it down on the bartop.  The man refilled his glass, and Heyes emptied it again in a single gulp.

Without asking, the bartender held the bottle out to fill the glass a third time, but Heyes stopped him by reaching out a hand to cover the glass.  The man took the gold piece and returned the correct change without a word.

Heyes pocketed the coins, then turned and headed back to the street.  He stood on the boardwalk a moment, then returned to his horse and mounted.  Reining the animal left, he let the gelding walk slowly up the street until the ex-outlaw spotted the telegraph office.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

That night, lying alone in his hotel room, Hannibal Heyes allowed himself to cry.  And when the tears finally failed him, he continued to stare at the ceiling, wondering what in the world he was going to do without the Kid.

He knew he'd have one answer tomorrow.  He knew his telegraph to Silky O'Sullivan would net him an invitation to visit the older man in San Francisco, and Heyes had every intention of taking him up on it.  Once in the city, he'd drink himself into oblivion for a week or so, and then he would find himself a sailing ship and take it as far away from the United States as he could manage.

Running away wouldn't bring the Kid back, and it sure as hell wouldn't ease his pain, but at least there would be no reminders of the life he had found and so quickly lost.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The following morning the expected telegraph was waiting for him: _Joshua, come to San Francisco soonest.  Stop.  Important news.  Stop.  Silky O'Sullivan, Nob Hill, San Francisco._

Heyes walked back to the hotel, packed his few belongings and paid the young woman behind the desk on his way out.  He walked to the livery and waited for a teenaged boy to curry and saddle his horse for him.  He tipped the young man generously, then mounted and headed northwest.

In no real hurry to reach Silky's and face the man's sympathetic, pain-filled eyes, Heyes took his time on the trail, using what was left of his stake in hotels and saloons along the way.  He had thirteen cents left when he reached the outskirts of the city almost a week later, not even enough for a glass of whiskey.  With a heavy sigh, he tossed the remaining coins to a small Chinese girl who stood near a broken down wagon her father was trying to repair, and kicked the gelding into a gallop.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Silky O'Sullivan's Nob Hill home was a three-story white mansion with Roman columns in the front.  Heyes was usually impressed with the effect, but this time he couldn't have cared less.  Nothing about the splendid houses, the fine landscaping, or the well-dressed people he passed on the cobblestone street made the slightest impression.

Numb was how he decided he felt.  Cold and numb all the way down to his bones.  And nothing was ever going to thaw that pain, nothing but time and then only if he was lucky.  And Hannibal Heyes didn't feel lucky anymore.

He reined into the long driveway of Silky's home, pulling up when one of the hired help stepped out and offered to take the animal.  Heyes stepped tiredly from the saddle and handed over the gelding's reins with a grunt that was meant to pass for a "Thank you."

He plodded up the steps to the large front door, which opened just as Heyes reached out for the bronze lion-head knocker.

"Heyes, you look terrible!" Silky exclaimed.  "What took you so damn long?  I told you I had important news!"

Heyes' dull eyes vaguely registered Silky's agitation as he stepped past the man without a word and made his way straight to the bar in the salon and poured himself a full glass of whiskey.  He downed the liquor in a single gulp.  He started to pour himself another, but the older man reached out and stopped him.

"Heyes, would you stop and listen to me?" he said shrilly.  "It's about the Kid."

"He's dead," Heyes replied, his voice flat and dead.

"No, he's not, he's right here in San Francisco," Silky countered.  A smile brightened his face as he watched the words work their magic on Heyes.

"What?" the dark-haired ex-outlaw demanded.

"The Kid, he's alive and right here in–"

"I heard what you said!" Heyes interrupted, reaching out to grab the man's arms, his fingers curling tightly into the man's coat.  "Where?  How?"

Silky stepped out of Heyes' grasp and poured them each a glass of whiskey, saying, "I got a telegram from him the day before yours arrived.  He damn-near drowned in that flash flood, but he didn't.  He managed to walk to Murphy and telegraphed me from there, figurin' you'd do the same when you didn't find him."

"Why didn't you tell me he was alive?" Heyes demanded as he accepted the glass, tossing back the contents as soon as the words were out.

Silky blustered a moment, then concluded, "I thought you'd know that was the 'important news'!  I thought you'd be here four days ago!"

"Where is he?" Heyes insisted.

Silky's half-angry expression softened, becoming almost playful.  "He asked if I could put the two of you up at a hotel until you got yourselves a stake."

"He's at a hotel?" Heyes asked incredulously.

Silky nodded.  "The Broadworth, on California Street."  Heyes was already halfway to the door when the older man called out, "Room 212!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Heyes was trembling as he walked into the too-fancy, too-respectable hotel, his gaze sweeping frantically over the men and women in the large lobby – no Kid Curry.  He moved through the small crowd, muttering apologies as he bumped and jostled his way to the entrance of the small café that occupied half of the downstairs.

A blond man, sitting at a table in the corner, looked up and grinned.  _Kid_ , Heyes thought, feeling the blood drain from his face and his knees turn rubbery.  Before he even realized that Curry had moved, the man was standing next to him, holding onto his arm while Heyes swayed on his feet.

"Heyes?" the Kid whispered softly, so no one else could hear.  "You okay?"

The dark-haired man shook his head, upsetting the odd roaring sound that filled his ears and making him feel sick to his stomach.

"Come on," Curry instructed, his tone worried.

Heyes allowed himself to be led to the stairs and escorted up to the second floor. He half-stumbled down the thickly carpeted hallway to a door, then planted his heels and forced the Kid to stop.  "How?" he demanded, brown eyes locked on blue.

Curry grinned and shook his head.  "Luck, Heyes, pure luck.  The water swept me along a little ways, then dumped me right on top of a tree that had fallen into the canyon.  I held on a little while, then when the water went down a little, I climbed up the side and tried to figure out where I was.  I thought you'd head for Senora, so I did, too, but I'd gotten a little turned around and by the time I figured it out, I was closer to Murphy."

Heyes nodded, his heart pounding.  The Kid was alive.  His lover was alive and well, and standing right there in front of him.  He wasn't alone.  The Kid was alive.

"I telegraphed Silky first thing, then waited for him to let me know when you contacted him.  I headed here as soon as he let me know you were on your way.  What took you so long?"

Heyes leaned back against the wall and shook his head, hoping his voice wouldn't fail him.  "Didn't know I had any reason to hurry," he whispered, his eyes filling with unshed tears.  His muscles were shaking, making it hard to stand.

"Ah, Heyes," the Kid replied softly as he quickly fished into his pocket for the room key.  He unlocked the door and opened it.

Heyes pushed himself off the wall and Curry guided his lover inside.  He could feel the man trembling like he was bone-cold, and wondered again if Heyes was hurt.

Once safely behind the closed door of the borrowed hotel room, Heyes roughly pulled Curry into his arms, his lips immediately attacking the Kid's, hungry to assure himself that the man was really there, really okay.

The Kid returned the passionate kiss, his tongue wrestling with Heyes'.  His hands moved, unbuttoning the dark-haired man's shirt and pushing it back off his shoulders before they both had to surface for air.  There were no wounds that he could see.

"I really thought you were dead, Kid," Heyes panted, his gaze dropping as tears escaped, rolling down his cheeks.  "I didn't know what I was going to do…"

Curry reached out, his hands resting tenderly on Heyes' naked shoulders.  "What'd you decide?"

Heyes glanced up at the blond through long dark eyelashes and snorted softly.  "Figured I'd hop a ship and head for someplace as far away from here as I could find," he admitted.

"And what were you gonna do there?" Curry asked as he watched Heyes jerk his shirt the rest of the way off, tossing it onto a chair.

The dark-haired man shrugged.  "I don't know, Kid," he whispered.  "But at that point it really didn't matter."  He unbuttoned the Kid's shirt, dipping his head to run the tip of his tongue hungrily around one of the hard nipples while the blond pulled the shirt off and tossed it on top of the first.

That done, Heyes moved to the second nipple, sucking on it while his hand reached down to cup Curry's growing erection.  He moaned, so softly it sounded like a whimper.

The Kid pushed him back.  "Whoa, Heyes, easy now, slow down," he said, grinning.  "Look, I'm fine, just fine, okay?  Everything's okay."

Heyes' haunted expression slowly melted away and he finally grinned back, pushing his disheveled dark hair off his forehead with a still slightly shaky hand.  "Guess I'm just in something of a hurry," he countered.  "Never thought I'd be doing this again."

The Kid sat down on the big bed and pulled off his boots.  Socks and his gun and holster followed in leisurely order.  Heyes watched impatiently as Curry then stood, slowly taking off his pants.

"Heyes, you made me wait here for almost a week.  I was worried about you – hell, you might 'a gotten caught," he argued softly.  "So I figure I've got a right to make you wait a little while."

As quickly as he could, Heyes stripped off his own clothes, then closed the space between them, folding Curry into a tight hug.  "God, Kid, I thought you were dead," he explained in a broken whisper that ended in a half-choked sob.  "Why should I hurry?"

"I know, I know, Heyes," the blond replied, his hands sliding down his lover's back to cup his naked butt cheeks and squeeze.  "But I'm not dead.  Everything's all right."

"I can see that," Heyes half-growled as he ground his groin against the Kid's, enjoying the way their hard cocks rolled over each other.  "Damn it, I want you," he growled.  " _Now_."

"Hmm, I think I like the sound of that," Curry said, breaking the embrace and leading Heyes over to the large bed.  He paused at his saddlebags, pulling out something swaddled in cloth.  He quickly unwrapped a small bottle and set it on the bedside table, then climbed onto the bed and rolled over into his back.

Heyes pounced, positioning himself over Curry, straddling the man's chest.  His cock rose above the Kid's face, demanding attention.

Curry flicked the base of Heyes' poker with his tongue, then swabbed his balls, sucking the skin of the sac between his lips.

Heyes supported himself against the headboard with one hand, while his other hand gripped his poker and fed it into the Kid's waiting mouth.

Curry swallowed the thick pole with ease, the muscles of his throat constricting around the shaft.  Heyes closed his eyes and sighed, unable to remember when he'd come this close to pure bliss.  The Kid was alive, he was unhurt, and they were still free.  And they were making love.  What more could he possibly want?

The Kid's mouth released him and Heyes looked down, watching as the blond stuck two of his fingers between his full, kiss-reddened lips.  When he pulled them out, they were dripping with his spit.  He quickly resumed sucking Heyes' cock, but he also reached around the dark-haired man's waist and dipped his wet fingers into Heyes' ass, pressing them against his clenched sphincter.  The touch was delicate at first, but Heyes got a real jolt when Curry managed to actually work one his fingers inside of him.

"Just relax," Curry cooed, his lips less than an inch away from the slick head of Heyes' cock.  "Enjoy it."

Heyes concentrated on relaxing his muscles.  He knew it should feel good.  The Kid always seemed to think it did when he poked his finger up there.  Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to feel the pleasure that he hoped wasn't far behind the odd sensation that assaulted him.  A few moments later the uncomfortable pressure shifted to an intriguing tingle, then to a rush of pure pleasure.  He began to ride the Kid's finger, urging it deeper into his shut while he humped the man's hot, wet mouth.

A second finger was inserted alongside the first, stretching Heyes' hole a little wider.  As Curry massaged his prostate and gulped his poker down his throat, Heyes suddenly found himself aching for more.

"Kid," he breathed, "I want– I– Do it.  I want you inside me."

Curry pulled his mouth away from Heyes' cock, a playful smile creeping onto his lips.  "I thought you'd never ask," he purred.

Heyes moved off the Kid and rolled onto his back.

Curry leaned over to the small, glass-topped table that stood next to the bed, grabbing the small bottle of oil.  He poured a small pool of the liquid into his palm, rubbing it between his fingers before he smeared more of the slick liquid over Heyes' ass.  He slipped his middle finger inside the dark-haired man.

"Oh, God," Heyes panted.  "Hurry, Kid, I can't wait."

"You've gotta learn to be patient," Curry scolded, slowly inching his finger in past the second knuckle. "I've got to loosen you up first.  I'll never fit when you're like this."

Heyes closed his eyes when Curry added a second finger, stretching him as he pushed in and pulled out with a tantalizing rhythm.  When he added a third finger, Heyes' body writhed uncontrollably.

Abruptly the fingers were gone, and Heyes opened his eyes to find the Kid rubbing oil onto his own poker, massaging himself with long, slow strokes that left him fully hard.

"You ready?" the blond asked.

Heyes didn't answer immediately.  The Kid's cock was a good eight or nine inches long and it looked about two inches in diameter.  Having never been loved by a man before, he wasn't sure he could handle his partner's size, even with the preparation.  But his desire was greater than his apprehension, and after a pause, he nodded.

"Do it," he said, hoisting his feet onto Curry's shoulders.

The Kid took hold of his cock and positioned himself at the slick opening of Heyes' ass.  He nudged the tight hole teasingly, then rubbed his exposed crown up and down the man's crack.  When Heyes pressed down against the pressure, demanding that the Kid get on with it, Curry returned the tip of his pole to the puckered bud and began to press.  He could feel Heyes begin to open for him and pressed harder, increasing the pressure until he finally forced the tight hole open.

Second thoughts immediately flooded the dark-haired man's mind as the Kid slowly entered him.  He face knotted up into an expression of agony; it felt like he were being impaled on a fence post.

"Easy, Heyes, relax," Curry coaxed.  "It gets better.  I promise."

Heyes tried to relax, focusing past the pain, but it didn't work until Curry began to gently thrust into him, his stiff poker massaging the dark-haired man's prostate.  Then the pain was quickly replaced with an intense pleasure unlike any Heyes had ever experienced.

The Kid smiled as he watched his lover's expression melt into one of pure joy.  "Like it?" he asked.

"Come on," Heyes replied, clutching his ass, "what're you waitin' for?  Ride."

Curry slowly increased his pace until he was ramming his cock deep inside Heyes' ass.

His hands anchored on his partner's hips, Heyes pulled himself forward to meet each thrust, wanting the Kid to plunge in even deeper.  After several strokes, Curry wrapped his hand around Heyes' aching cock, pulling him off even as he pounded into him.

Each stroke caused a minor explosion of euphoria throughout Heyes' body and he began to tremble, his senses overloaded by the pleasure.  He tried to hold back, wanting to enjoy the sensations longer, but his efforts were too little, and too late.  The Kid had aroused him too far and, unable to take any longer, he succumbed.  Every muscle tensed as his cock fired its first hot, thick load, splattering the Kid's chest and abdomen with a long stringy strand that was quickly joined by several others.

Seeing Heyes come increased Curry's arousal and he began pounding Heyes' ass, hammering in and out of the man like a steam engine piston on full throttle.

"I'm almost there," he panted, his features contorting as the sensations became overwhelming.  He let out a harsh, guttural groan as he managed one final thrust into Heyes' ass, his seed flooding into the man in long hot jets.

Gasping for breath, the Kid fell forward on top of Heyes.  The dark-haired man's arms ensnared him, holding him close and tight.  They lay together, their bodies sweaty and sticky for a long moment before the Kid asked, "You okay?"

"Fine," Heyes replied.  "I didn't think that was gonna work there for a minute."

"But it was good, wasn't it?"

"Kid, that was better than anything I've ever felt."

The blond grinned as he carefully climbed off his lover and lay down beside him. "Good, guess that means we can do it again sometime, right?"

"Oh, I'd count on that," Heyes replied, reaching out to cling to the man he never thought he’d see again.  "Definitely."

"Good," Curry replied, snuggling into the loving embrace, his eyes closing.  "But next time, it's my turn."  He could feel Heyes smile.

"It's been my pleasure to fill you up."

"My pleasure, too," the Kid teased as sleep pulled him and Heyes into a world of good dreams.

The End


End file.
